love & poker (subtitled: learning how to drink whiskey & catch virgin leaves)

i didn't go to bed last night (i use the term loosely) until 7 am because of an all-night texas hold 'em game. i awoke 3 hours after falling asleep, caught between the stages of drunkenness and hung over-edness like a rock star (a rock star who was going to give up drinking until paris...) and SO ready for the final staff meeting.

playing poker with chris and brian late night accompanied by wisdom-granting agents is surely a favorite pasttime. anytime one can parlay poker chips, listen to great music and philosophize i think this is my favorite activity, especially when concerning love) you've got to know it's good. it just isn't so good in hindsight the next morning and subsequent afternoon during staff meetings. everything was a lot funnier, though.

on my way back to my apartment, tired as hell, i rolled my ankle and almost fell down. pause, regain balance, continue only to catch my only virgin leaf of the year. as i've so often established, virgin leaves are only caught out of serendipity. whenever i run to catch one, the leaf evades my grasp. what the hell an i trying to say on 2 hours of sleep? well, how about this. we trip (and sometimes fall) to catch virgin leaves. or i could say not to force stuff and to embrace serendipity. or it could mean my 50 days of vacation are going to be amazing. or that i should come back to india next year. or it could mean that the wind blew the tree and made a leaf fall, period. or it could mean everything. i'd be a better philosopher with cheesy eggs.

christmastime is here...

some things transcend all matter of christmas celbration, thailand, the bombay airport, cambodia, india. christmas carols (or yert sing-alongs), cute kids, holiday cheer, red wine, loved ones and dance parties are some of those things. oh, and tambourines. don't forget the tambourine.

from the hip

while i was traveling in asia in college i noticed that most of the beautiful things in the world go away when you take out a cemera. people stop talking, aware they are being watched and pose for the viewer. i developed a method aimed at capturing moments without raising awareness of the presence of a camera. (yes, some would argue this is not valuing others' cultures and is demeaning people's ways of life, etc. etc.) all of these photos were taken one particularly lovely afternoon in mussoorie. the man with the groceries balanced on his head is my coolie (yes, i have a maid and get groceries delivered to my door). i used the from the hip method on all but the one with the two women-- guudi (my ayah) and her friend were sitting on the steps and they added the artificial elements of smiles and poses when i asked to take a photo. wanted to give you a taste of mussoorie, without the artificial sweetening. well, not as much artificial sweetening, at least. i didn't take pictures of any donkey shit, now did i?

it's that time of year...

just turned "dry the rain" up. must finish work in the next 6 minutes and 7 seconds to the tune of my top played song on my ipod (talk about manufacturing moments...)

my heart races from caffine, as if i am completing the last leg of a race. i grade ferociously.

pounding comments and numbers into the computer as if my life depends on the information reaching the security database before the building explodes in 4 minutes (my comments being the only thing preventing the end of mankind as we know it)

i forgot the feeling of wanting to rip off my clothes and run around the halls of the high school, akin to brandi champain (you know, ripping her shirt off at the world cup and the like)

there it is. vacation... commmences now... approximately 9 weeks of vacation unfurls like a huge amazing pool of placid water on a hot day, caramel latte on a rainy morning... you get the gist... where will my pool of placid water take me, aspiring professional traveller, you ask?

stop one: paris with brian. why not venture to the land where the cheapest things to eat are wine, cheese and bread?

stop two: italy with robyn and ron and then e. my trip to italy, one of my top five places to visit (along with paris) was postponed when i was hired at woodstock. a year belated and long overdue.

stop three: south india with joe. the lonely planet ranks the beaches of kerala as the best place in the world to hang a hammock. i'm on it.

will reality trounce my romantic ideals of france, italy and india? maybe. probably. does it matter? fuck no. basking... basking...